To: College Admissions

            As I was applying for college, there were questions that College Board and random college readiness websites told me I must perfect my responses to for college interviews.  Here is what I really wanted to say.

“Tell me about yourself.”

            Oh God, the big tamale right off the bat. Do you want to know who I am, admissions lady? You look like a Becky, so let’s go with that. How do I force my whole life to fit into this 30 second bubble you’ve given me? Maybe your life is boring enough that you’re able to but I’m a well-rounded individual. I am a competitive dog-petter, with a record of 74 “good boys” a minute. I am the current national Naruto running champion. (It’s all about the form and making yourself as aerodynamically crouched as possible.) I am a lip balm enthusiast, who holds the unpopular opinion that EOS eggs are overrated and overpriced. I am a legendary cartoon connoisseur, who’s Steven Universe theories have gone viral on Twitter multiple times. But for some reason your school does not care about these notable achievements. Instead, Becky, you want to hear about how I’m a leader, or a people person, or how I’m a good student. Clearly, you only want students to fit this exhaustively boring frame of a person. That’s pretty lame, Becky.

            “Why do you want to go to our college?”

            Well, Becky, according to Time magazine, we’re living in one of the most competitive generations to ever exist. We must compete for jobs and then compete in the global market for, I don’t know, maybe even better jobs. College is becoming a necessity. If I want to be honest, Becky, you’re not my first-choice school. I didn’t want to tell you that because I thought it would hurt your feelings. I just saw that you were affordable and prestigious enough that you wouldn’t be horrible choice. If I were to wake up every day on this campus, the first thing on my mind probably wouldn’t be I want to kill myself because of what a detestable white-washed hell hole this is. You’re welcome.

            “What major are you interested in?”

            I don’t have a single microscopic clue. Thanks for reminding me that I have absolutely no direction in my life, Becky.

            “What do you see yourself doing in 10 years?”

10 YEARS?! I can hardly see what’s going to happen to me tomorrow. Also, Becky, can you control the future? I bet not. Surprise! Neither can I. (It’d be cool if you could though. Hit me up if you can, I have some suggestions.) What’s the point of this question when we both know I’ll most likely change my major three times and have a completely different perspective on myself by the time I’m 28? Do you know how much can happen in the span of a decade? A lot of stuff, Becky. Aren’t you supposed to be the expert on college? Let’s ask some smarter questions here, ok?

“If you could do one thing in high school differently, what would it be?”

To not have stressed myself out to the point of a mental breakdown because I based my entire self-worth on whether I would be able to impress you and other admissions officers, so I could be accepted into your supposedly “phenomenal” university. “Phenomenal” enough that I felt like committing suicide over an A-. You know your admissions office does a great job on selling your university. It makes it look…to die for. *badum tiss*

Now Becky, you might think I’m being harsh. But how many glassy-eyed, panic-ridden kids walk into your office everyday? Us students drain the life out of ourselves, studying and preparing just to get a chance at getting accepted into college. We change everything about ourselves to maybe get a second glance from admissions officers. We whittle ourselves down until there’s just a forced smile and hollow answers left. So no, I don’t think I’m being harsh. I’m just your only applicant who’s being completely honest.